The Wire and the Plug
by HedgieX
Summary: It was like something electric inside of him, when he first saw her. It was like he was the wire, and she was the plug, and without her he'd been unable to live, unable to function. How it should have been.


**Whilst you read this, listen to **_**Love Me, Please Love Me**_** by Sandie Shaw. Make sure it's the English version, unless of course you're bilingual. Gorgeous song, and somehow the up/down nature of it seems to fit with this relationship.**

The Wire and the Plug

**~ How it should have been ~**

It was like something electric inside of him, when he first saw her. It was like he was the wire, and she was the plug, and without her he'd been unable to live, unable to function.

Perhaps that sounded cheesy, but then Nicki Boston brought out the very worst degree of cheesiness in Tom Clarkson. They were English teachers, after all. Why couldn't he use a simile, today of all days, if he wanted to?

He didn't want to sound blunt about it, but nobody else's problems could dampen his happiness today, not Michael's possible trial, not the complicated triangle that was Christine and Imogen and Connor, not the Barry family. That was how happy he was right now. The Barry family did not matter.

"I certainly see a few familiar faces," Nicki had said, when Michael had introduced her to the staff room.

He hadn't realised how much he'd missed her serious expression which could so easily crinkle into a smile, or how much he'd craved her gravelly tones.

In the space of a couple of months, he'd lost two people he loved, first Nicki and then Josh. Of course, he hadn't really _lost_ them, as such; Nicki had stayed behind when Waterloo Road had moved on, and Josh had left school to go into business.

He missed them both dreadfully, more than he'd ever really missed anyone. And now Nicki was here again, standing a couple of metres from him, wearing a crisp white shirt. She'd always moaned about needing a new bag; he'd bought her one just before he'd left, and she'd held it to her chest as though it was a chest of gold. It convinced him she was real, to see it again now, hanging casually from her arm.

He'd defended the PRU to his colleagues, when they'd doubted it. He'd have defended anything, today. "How bad can it be?"

_How good can it be_, more like. Nicki was even more beautiful than he remembered her.

He'd heard Scout and Rhiannon in the corridor at break, slagging her off. Something about circuit training and physical workouts. The thing was, it wasn't _physical workouts _with Nicki that he needed. It was her smile, her voice, the way she could effortlessly make him feel on top of the world.

They'd been through so much together, from Josh's breakdown (hey, every cloud had a silver lining, after all) to the day-to-day chaos at Waterloo Road. He remembered betting with her about the fun run, and ending up doubled over by the time they crossed the finishing line; he remembered the panic that had shot through him when Kyle had struck her across the face.

He'd overheard a conversation between Grantly and Audrey in the staffroom at lunch when he was microwaving his panini, too.

"Three sentences? _Three sentences_? I'd never let anyone get away with that. Everything he said about _good leadership_, and she's letting them skip their _life skills_ class if they write _three sentences_?"

Audrey had looked over her glasses at him in her usual mild-mannered way, "Well, it's three sentences more than any of them managed last term."

"_And _he's a_ murderer_."

Even Grantly couldn't irritate Tom today.

How delicious that panini had tasted, even though the cheese seemed to be out of date. With every bite he took, he breathed in deeply, and he could almost smell her perfume dancing in the air. Look, perfume could dance if he wanted it to, okay? Stumbling kittens and poppies in a field and a crippled, one hundred year-old ex-soldier could all dance today.

His heart had skipped a beat – or three, actually – when she'd run into the staff room. He didn't know what he'd thought had happened, and he didn't want to consider it. Her car was missing, but it could be replaced. He'd replace it himself, if he had to, just to thank whoever was up there for the fact that she was okay.

And when the final bell had rung to signify the end of the day, he'd run to the toilets and straightened his tie and licked his fingers to iron out the little kink in his hair. He felt like a schoolboy on his first date. He treasured the feeling.

They met at the gate.

"Long time, no see," she said, very softly, far more softly than he'd ever heard her speak before, "I thought today would never end."

Where was his voice? Where were all the things he'd wanted to say to her, all of this time? "I know."

"It's not for long. Just until I find my feet here, you know? Establish order in the PRU. Then we can tell everyone."

"I don't– I don't mind," he said.

"You lost for words, Mr Clarkson? Never thought the day would come. It's quiet enough to hear the birds."

He looked up into the trees above them, and back down at her. He soaked in everything, every little crease and pimple, and then he looked away because it was all so much to take in. She reached out a hand, and he clasped it in his, her skin as smooth as Josh's had been when Tom had first taken his newborn son into his arms.

Once he'd got that, he wanted it all. They leant in towards each other, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and they held each other tight. She was close to him now, and she'd never be far away again.

"I've missed you."

"Me too," he said.

"What, you've missed _yourself_?"

"Of course. But I've missed you more. I love you."

"Me too." Her laughter was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard.

"So, what do you want to do? Go back to mine? We could order a takeaway, watch an old DVD box set, you know? I've got Spooks, Ashes to Ashes, Teachers– or we could go to your new flat, and I'll help you unpack?"

He felt as though he was melting. Becoming one with her, the two parts of the pendant that always fitted together no matter how far apart they went.

"Oh, Tom. I know what DVDs you've got."

"Or there's that café round the– oh, you won't know it, but they do the most gorgeous little strawberry tarts, and–"

"Tom," she stopped him, "I don't mind what we do. Nothing else really matters. Not today, anyway."

_Not today._

Every single day in every single person's life held memories. Sometimes you remembered days for the bad things; everyone knew where they when the twin towers collapsed. Other days, you remembered for the good things. They didn't have to be things that affected the world – it could be the day of your graduation, or the day the first shoot came up through the soil in spring.

Today would be a day he remembered forever, because she was here. He felt for Nicki's fingers and locked his in between them, just to make sure she was close to him, just for today.

His simile might have been cheesy, about the wire and the plug, but then the truth was cheesy sometimes. Of course they existed without each other, but they only existed; they didn't _live_. When they were united, one pushed into the other (he smiled, because that sounded very much like a _physical workout_), the sparks could fly between them.

And sometimes, the plug failed, or the wire snapped. And then they'd need to find a new fuse, or go to the repairs shop, but the damage was reversible. Damage was always reversible, even if you had to go to the moon to find a solution to your problem. Tom would be willing to go to the moon for Nicki.

"Hey, daydreamer." Her lips were warm and soft against his as she kissed him again. "What are you thinking? '_Oh God, I'm going to have no peace and quiet ever again now she's here_'?"

"Something like that."

"Tell me," she said, her face serious, her hair falling over one eye, like it had been when she'd first stepped into the staffroom behind Michael.

"I'm going to enjoy working with you all," she'd said._ Oh, Nicki, I'm going to enjoy working with you too._

"You'll laugh at me."

"Since when have I laughed at you, darling?"

"Okay, okay," he sighed. "I was thinking about wires and plugs."

She laughed, and he chased her away from the school gates and around the park, and she squealed as the daffodils tickled her ankles, and when he was tired they sank down into the grass and lay side by side, cradling each other.

Tom saw the shapes of a wire and a plug in the clouds, and gradually they floated on the sea of blue and bonded together. They showed the world that Nicki was here with him, and that, for today, nothing else mattered.

XxXxX

**Please review. I know it's relatively short, and I know it involves artistic licence, but hey, it's the last day of my holidays, and I managed a *whole* chapter of fluff without dragging you down into my usual state of perpetual angst with me; you should all be proud! x**


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